


Finding Something in the Weirdest Place

by Marauderofworlds



Category: Guns N' Roses, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, I hope i can make this work, Living Together, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Band, Semi-Public Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Build, Well - Freeform, if not, shit happens, wow lots of drunkness lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marauderofworlds/pseuds/Marauderofworlds
Summary: Seattle, as Slash was beginning to learn, was a pretty goddamn weird city.Coming from a city like LA, Slash felt out of place, in the fucking most odd way. The guitarist looked to and fro, dark eyes looking across the crowd of people he was in the middle of. Multitudes of dyed hair, freaky looking piercings, and roughed up clothing. All the cigarette and weed smoke was almost choking him.From a prompt from youre-in-the-jungle-baby on tumblr! Lets hope this works out!





	Finding Something in the Weirdest Place

**Author's Note:**

> OK, So! youre-in-the-jungle-baby sends me awesome asks, and I thought this one was worth the effort of making into an entire fic!

Seattle, as Slash was beginning to learn, was a pretty goddamn _weird_ city. 

Coming from a city like LA, Slash felt out of place, in the fucking most odd way. The guitarist looked to and fro, dark eyes looking across the crowd of people he was in the middle of. Multitudes of dyed hair, freaky looking piercings, and roughed up clothing. All the cigarette and weed smoke was almost choking him.

The differences between LA and Seattle weren’t subtle, but somehow still screamed, _'Fuck you!!! Don’t even **try** to group us together!'_ Slash definitely didn’t feel comfortable or welcome, at least no one tried to start any shit with him in this punk club. Bar? Slash couldn’t tell what this space was, but it certainly had attitude. 

Slash took a swig of his beer, easily moving the bottle away from sharp elbows. The stage he was in front of was pretty beat up looking, hanging together by, what he could only assume was a couple well placed nails. Shifting his weight, Slash lightly bumped into a heavily tattooed dude, who gave him the dirtiest glare and turned back to keep making out with another dude.  
Why Slash picked Seattle to travel to, of all the cities, he didn’t know. The city wasn’t a special choice. He just wanted out of LA for a little while, his wanderlust just got too strong, and the cheapest choice, was of course, Seattle. Lovely. Taking a puff of his cigarette, Slash started to feel restless, he didn’t like all these people crowding him, he should’ve just grabbed a couple Jack Daniels and went back to the hotel.

He didn’t know what time it was, no clocks and no wristwatch, but it felt like hours past. Slash wanted to ask someone when the fucking band was going to start, but he didn’t feel up for the back alley mugging afterwards.  
The people around start to move more like a goddamn ocean wave, yelling profanities, cheering, almost jeers. Slash looked away from a chicks snake tattoo on her breast, and sighed in relief. the band was finally walking on the stage, going to their designated instruments. One stuck out to Slash.

Long as fuck legs in tight ripped up jeans. A bare best, sweat covered. The shock of blue hair, fading but still vibrant enough to catch in the dim stage lights. An attractive face under the weird hair, solely focused of checking the tuning of his Bass. 

Slash slowly took his cigarette from his mouth, dropping it, put it out, letting it get lost under the feet of the crowd. A guy from on top the stage, which Slash could probably give a good guess he was the lead singer, walked up to the mic stand and stated their band name and the song they were about to play. 

Not that Slash paid attention to him. His eyes moved right back to Bassist. 

The band started up. It was a loud dirty glass hitting a metal door type of song. People started to headbang and violently move to music, but Slash kept his eyes on the blue hair Bass player, who roamed on the stage, only staying still every now and then, his hips moving in such a way, The guitarist just wanted to watch this guy roll his hips for hours.  
Before Slash knew it, 9 songs had past and the band gave mocking bow, before walking off. He left a dull thud of disappointment. The band played alright, but the bassist was really something. 

It looked like things were starting to pick up, the next band was already setting up. Thank god. A sip from his beer bottle told Slash that it warmed up from his hand, goddammit.  
Piss warm beer was the worst. He wished he could chuck it, but hitting some punk kid in the head with it and getting ganged up by his pissed off friends wouldn’t be fun. Loud whistles and yells started up again, indicating the next gig players.

Slash was pleasantly surprised. That bassist, was back on stage. Furrowed brows, once again all eyes on the instrument of choice, which, instead of a bass, was a deep green guitar, scratched to hell. Slash couldn’t help himself. He lightly poked the nicest looking girl in front of him. Turning around, the girl gave an absolute scathing look.

“I’m trying to watch the show, Fuckhole McGee.” Fuckhole McGee? What was up with these Seattle goers? Slash raised his hands in defense, bottle in one hand, and tried to put the most apologetic look on his face.  
“ Hey, sorry. I was just wondering something.” The chick gave a unimpressed look.  
“ I’m not selling any drugs or whatever, so go ask someone else.” What?  
“Nah, I don’t want shit like that. The guitar player, hes on stage again, he a popular fucker or something?” Punk girl gave a quick glance to the stage and shrugged.  
“ That’s Duff. nice guy. Joins any band that needs the drums or whatever. Hes plays pretty much anything. Though he could stand to practice a bit more.” OK, Slash wasn’t here for this girls critiquing comments. Duff. Probably a nickname. It’d be pretty fucked up to name their kid that.  
“ Yea, whatever, but-” Before Slash could get another word out, the band introduced themselves and started up. The girls attention went back to the stage and Slash was easily forgotten. _Fuck._

3 songs went by before Slash even dared to get any closer to the stage. Why was he feeling shy? It was just a guitar player. Named Duff. Who had a rocking bod and could play so fucking good. 

_Shit._

Lighting a cigarette with tiny trembles in his hands, Slash moved ever so closer, slithering like one of those snakes he’d own one day. Soon he was 5 solid steps away from the stage, almost right in front of the punk named Duff. Slash couldn’t help but stare.  
Duffs blue hair was sticking to his face, sweat practically dripping off his slim body, hips moving just so to the music. Slash started to nod his head along with the rickety punk song, moving back and forth with the rest of the crowd. His heart rate skyrocketed, sweat collecting. Slash closed his eyes for just a moment, to blink the salty liquid running down his face and near his eyes. 

He opened his eyes, and Duff was staring directly at him.

_Damn._


End file.
